


Breakfast of Champions (2011)

by JennyB



Series: Lent 2011 [38]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Lent Challenge 2011, M/M, Sibling Incest, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-15
Updated: 2011-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-06 19:16:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennyB/pseuds/JennyB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean surprises Sam with a truly special birthday meal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast of Champions (2011)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theskywasblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskywasblue/gifts).



> Written for Lent Challenge 2011. Prompt: Eggs and Jell-O shots do not qualify as brunch.

"Happy birthday, Sammy!"

"Dean?" Sam blinked his eyes open and groggily pushed himself into a half-sitting position in the bed. "Time'sit?"

"Almost ten." Dean grinned. "So rise and shine, birthday boy. And to celebrate the day, I'm bringing you breakfast in bed. Well, brunch, I guess."

Sam arched a brow as Dean bowed with an over-exaggerated, elaborate flourish before presenting him with a Styrofoam plate. "Brunch." His brow went higher. "Are you feeling alright? You're being, I don't know, overly manic?"

Dean mock-pouted, and tried his best to look wounded. "Dude, it's your birthday, and for once, we're not up to our asses in shit with demons and angels and everything else that goes bump in the night. So hell yeah, I'm happy today. Now eat up; we've gotta get to Bobby's for dinner." Dean smirked and gave a half-shrug. "He kind of insisted. Deal with it."

Sam looked down at the plate he was holding, a look of genuine surprise crossing his face. "Dean? Seriously dude, what is this?" He picked up one of the small Dixie cups that sat on the edge of the plate and gave it a sniff, only to make a face. "Peach Schnapps?" He chuckled. "Hate to tell you, but eggs and Jell-O shots do not qualify as brunch."

"Hey, it was the best I could do there, Martha Stewart. Last night they had a bachelorette party at the bar next door." Dean paused, taking a moment to look rather smug. "I'm pretty sure I gave the bride-to-be some second thoughts. Heh. But anyway, Bree - that's the bride -" He grinned when Sam just nodded. "Bree told me to take what was left. I didn't think you'd want those gay-ass cucumber sandwiches with the cream cheese, so I rescued all the egg salad, made it all pretty for presentation sake, and of course, the Jello shots are like that brunch drink. Uh..."

"Mimosa."

"Gesundheit."

"No, Dean, it's called mimosa - it's orange juice and champagne."

"Right..." He glanced awkwardly at Sam, the word already forgotten. "Well, fuzzy navel shooters have orange juice in them, so close enough." The sunny grin returned.

Sam gave a soft chuckle, then asked, "Dean, we...never really went out for brunch when we were growing up. Ever. Do you even know what brunch is?"

Dean rolled his eyes. " _Yes_ , college boy! I'm not retarded. It's breakfast _and_ lunch. Best of both worlds." He moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "Look, I incorporated all your best brunch fixings - you've got the eggs, and the mim-whatever -"

"Mimosa."

"Yeah, that." He let his eyelids droop slightly, and smirking, he adopted a haughty tone to his voice. "For your meat component, you have the _finest_ beef jerky the gas station had to offer, and the Twinkie and handful of M &Ms are the dessert component." Dropping the voice, he pointed to the plate. "Besides, you've got a hunk of cantaloupe there. So it counts as brunch." He pumped a fist in the air, obviously convinced he'd made the definitive point in the whole debate.

"Cantaloupe," Sam repeated. "Right." Shaking his head in amusement he picked up the plastic fork from the plate. He poked at the pile of reclaimed egg salad, grimacing slightly as he felt the resistance from the mass of not-quite-cold, congealed goo. "Dean, I -" He worried his lower lip with his teeth for a moment, and then he shook his head. "Dude, seriously, I appreciate the gesture and all the trouble you went to for me, but...I can't eat this."

Dean didn't reply right away. The rejection stung a little, but he knew that Sam's thanks were truly sincere and that helped a little. "Yeah, I hear you," he murmured as he took the plate and forced a smile. "Your refined palate and all. So what _do_ you want then? Bobby's got your birthday dinner taken care of, but I'd like to at least do something for you."

Sam smiled. "What I want? I want to find one of those hole in the wall diners and have pancakes. And a cheeseburger. And maybe a couple of slices of pie. Brunch - Winchester-style."

"You want that?" Dean's expression was dubious, even as Sam nodded an affirmative. "Dude, that's all stuff that _I_ like."

"I know." Sam's smile widened and he slipped his arms around his brother. "Maybe seeing you happy makes me happy. For me, it's not so much _what_ we eat as that we're together."

"You're such a girl," Dean teased, only to chuckle softly a moment later when Sam pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

"Yeah, and you're such a bitch," Sam teased back as he released him. "I'm going to go shower, then we can hit the road."

"Yeah, cool." Dean watched as Sam gathered up his things and headed for the bathroom, and he couldn't help but feel that the way Sam's boxers sat low on his hips had been a deliberate move on his brother's part. Maybe there _was_ something else he could give Sam for his birthday. Smirking lewdly, he made a mental note to stop by the _Sin Bin_ later that night; after all, Sam _did_ deserve a present. Just before the bathroom door swung shut, Dean called out to him. "Hey, Sammy?"

"What?"

"If you don't want this, can I eat it?"

Both of Sam's brows went up. "If you want, but you're going to make yourself sick if you keep eating crap like that."

Dean grinned as he bit into the Twinkie. "Yeah? Guess it's a good thing I've got you to take care of me, eh?"

Sam laughed. "Yeah, well one day I won't and I'll leave you to your misery."

"No you won't. You like playing Florence Nightingale."

Sam's expression softened and he gave his brother a gorgeous smile. "Only for you, Dean."

Dean's smirk widened as he chewed a piece of beef jerky. "Ditto, Sammy," he murmured to the closed door. "Ditto."


End file.
